2 in the afternoon
You are sitting across from me, phone in hand. There is silence between us. I've gone on two monologue trips already.
"You should have gone to work, you know," You say casually. Your face is just stone-cold. I don't say anything. I don't regret not going to work.
You sigh deeply, and I see the tears. "This is fucked up! How can anyone say God is fair when he took the only person who stood by me when everyone else vanished? My abuela was...she was the most wonderful person. I never got a chance to buy her a house with a garden and..."
I stand before you with an aching heart. I know the pain of loss, it never really goes away. My arms open for you. "Come here," I whisper.
Your chest crushes into mine. All is silent except for your shallow breathing. I don't think I like God all that much.
YOU ARE READING
To you ✔
Short Story*[COMPLETE]* To you who stole my heart Everyone has a story to tell. That's an understatement. Everyone has STORIES to tell. Let me tell you mine.
